


Just a Touch to the Right

by cureelliott



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Established Relationship, Long Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cureelliott/pseuds/cureelliott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someoka comes to visit Fubuki during his seasonal break, but it's not everything he expected it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Touch to the Right

When Someoka decides to surprise Fubuki by coming home from Italy a week early, he imagines Fubuki’s stunned and happy face. He images Fubuki starting to cry a little and running out the front door, kicking up snow under his bare feet as he leaps into Someoka’s arms. He imagines kissing Fubuki while cradling him in his arms right there in the open before retreating to Fubuki’s room for some long overdue lovemaking. 

This is gonna be great, he think while boarding the plane in Naples.

What Someoka doesn’t imagine is his 15 hour flight being delayed by another 3 hours which he spends actively convincing himself not to strangle the screaming toddler sat next to him. Nor does Someoka imagine dragging his luggage along for the four hour train ride from the airport . Nor does he imagine having to walk to Fubuki’s grandmother’s house from the train station through the ever-present foot of snow while wearing his Armani suit. And he certainly doesn’t imagine getting ice salt and mud all over his hand crafted leather boots, but he let’s that all go because soon he’s going to get to see that smiling, teary eyed expression he had imagined. 

“Ryuugo-kun!” Fubuki’s grandmother answers the door, propped up on her cane with a thick shawl drawn around her shoulders. She’s nearly deaf so everything she says is in a half shout. “You’re early!” 

Someoka brushes the snow off his pant legs, “I thought I would surprise--” 

“Shirou is out, dear! Would you like some tea?” 

Someoka also didn’t imagine Fubuki would be doing anything other than waiting for him. 

Someoka sighed, inwardly laughing at himself, “Tea sounds great!” 

\--- 

“Sorry I’m late, Oba-chan!” The tea set rattles when Fubuki slams the door. Someoka can hear him stomping his boots in the doorway. There’s a series of shuffles: boots being kicked off and sliding wetly across the tile floor; scarves, mittens, sweaters and a jacket being stripped off and arranged on coat hooks; the rustling of plastic that sounded suspiciously like a grocery bag. 

“I stopped by the market picked up some anpan for--” Someoka waves awkwardly. 

Fubuki stands dumbstruck in the doorway, his grey-blue eyes sparkling with surprise and his small pink mouth forming a little o. 

“Shirou! Is that you? Ryuugo-kun is here!” 

Fubuki’s cheeks and forehead are burnt red but the skin around his eyes, where his goggles would have sat, is paper white. His hair is particularly messy, flipping up and out in all different directions. He had probably been snowboarding. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey,” Fubuki looks at the bag he’s holding, “I didn’t get you one.” 

\--- 

After dinner and saying goodnight to Fubuki’s grandmother, Fubuki and Someoka finally do retreat to Fubuki’s bedroom like Someoka had imagined, but they don’t immediately start clawing at one another before fucking like rabbits. They change into flannel pajama pants and Fubuki dons a hideous grey and mint green sweater with snow flakes on it. 

They sit on Fubuki’s bed and Someoka slathers aloe over Fubuki’s sunburn. 

“This wouldn’t happen if you just remembered to put sunscreen on.” 

“Sorry.” Fubuki is biting back a grin while he tilts his face up to Someoka’s hand. Someoka flicks his moist, red cheek and Fubuki flinches. 

He rubs his cheek gingerly and gives Someoka one of his slow, sleepy smiles. Even in a tacky sweater and a sunburn, Fubuki is... 

“Your hair is... longer.” Someoka looks away and Fubuki laughs. 

“So is yours.” Fubuki’s hand combs through the pink tufts of hair, tugging a little. Someoka turns back to him. 

“Oy, not so hard--” Fubuki’s mouth touches the corner of Someoka’s lips, still smiling. 

“I missed you, Ryuugo.” Someoka’s face goes pink and Fubuki laughs again only softer, almost wispy. 

When Someoka imagines kissing Fubuki, it’s always passionate and romantic. But right now, with Fubuki half in his lap and his mouth just there, against Someoka’s, everything feels tense and Someoka palms begin to sweat. When Someoka imagines kissing Fubuki, he feels confident and comfortable. When Someoka actually kisses Fubuki, he feels the opposite of that. 

But Fubuki never seems to mind or maybe he doesn’t notice. He just laughs and puts his arms around Someoka’s neck and kisses his face, his forehead, his nose. Eventually, they get tired and Fubuki pulls Someoka under the blankets with him and tells him how warm he is. Fubuki is always cold and Someoka uses that as justification for pulling Fubuki close and rubbing his face in Fubuki’s soft, grey hair. He wants to be close to Fubuki all the time. 

\--- 

When he wakes up, Someoka can’t feel Fubuki. Somehow, during the night, they’d drifted apart and had curled up on opposite edges of the bed. Someoka looks over his shoulder and Fubuki is pressed into the space where the bed meets the wall with the blankets drawn tightly over his body. 

When Someoka imagines waking up with Fubuki, it’s always romantic. They wake up in each others arms, or Someoka wakes up first and kisses Fubuki awake and Fubuki smiles at him and it’s all very, very romantic. 

Now, Fubuki appears to be having a nightmare. Objectively, Someoka knows that Fubuki gets them a lot. They talk about it and sometimes, Fubuki tells Someoka what they’re about. Sometimes it’s the avalanche, or Desarm taunting him. Other times, it’s just memories of Atsuya. When Fubuki tells Someoka about the dreams, he’s loses almost all inflection in his voice and he gets very quiet. Someoka knows it’s because the dreams frighten Fubuki very much. Knowing that and seeing it happening are two different things. 

“Hey, Fubu--” He puts his hand on Fubuki’s shoulder only to have it slapped away. Fubuki jerks away from Someoka only to slam his body against against the wall. He looks at Someoka with wild, unrecognizing eyes and breathes heavily. 

They stare at one another for a full minute before Fubuki’s face softens and he smiles apologetically. 

“Good morning.”

\--- 

Fubuki’s grandmother is a late sleeper so they take advantage of the alone time by showering together. Surprisingly this is the one intimate space that Someoka feels confident in. Maybe it’s all those years spent in group shower rooms and going to public baths while touring but the two of them sharing a shower head feels natural and comfortable. Maybe that’s why Someoka feels like he’s always trying to get Fubuki to stay in the shower longer than is completely necessary. 

“I have to meet Yukimura-kun in an hour,” Fubuki says as he rinses the soap from his hair. Someoka can’t keep his face from falling and Fubuki touches his cheek. 

“I’m sorry, but if I’d known you were coming I would have cancelled his practice. You could always come along?” 

Somehow, the thought of watching Yukimura make goo-goo eyes at Fubuki while Fubuki continues to be completely unaware of the kid’s massive, soul crushing crush on Fubuki isn’t particularly appealing. 

“I think I’ll pass,” Someoka sighs but Fubuki still beams at him before turning around under the stream of warm water. 

“Wash my back?” 

Now that’s something worth while. 

\--- 

Someoka catches up on the world’s soccer news, sends a couple e-mails back and forth with Gouenji, and even helps Fubuki’s grandmother with some knitting before returning to Fubuki’s room to sulk a little. When Someoka imagined this trip, he thought they would spend all the their time together. The more he thinks about it, the more irritated he feels. Why couldn’t Fubuki have cancelled his plans with Yukimura? It’s not like Someoka gets to take up much of his time anyways and it wouldn’t kill the kid of miss a couple of practices. 

The wind blows hard and the window pane rattles. Someoka scowls at it and crawls back into Fubuki’s bed with a pile of soccer magazines. 

Around five pm, Someoka hears the front door open and close and the usual stomping of snow covered boots that means Fubuki is home. His first instinct is to rush down the stairs to meet him, but he resists. During his sulking he’d concluded that if Fubuki was going to brush him off to pal around with a middle schooler, Someoka could brush him off to stay in the nice warm bed. 

Someoka pretends to keep reading his magazine while he listens to the sounds of Fubuki moving around the house. His muted voice speaking to his grandmother. The sound his sports bag being dropped in the hallway. The soft thumping as Fubuki leaps up the stairs, two at a time. Just as Fubuki opens the door, Someoka rolls to face the wall.

Fubuki doesn’t speak, but Someoka hears him strip off some clothing before crawling into bed next to him. His cold hands curl around Someoka’s waist and the tops of Someoka’s ears go pink when he realizes Fubuki’s naked body is pressed against his clothed back. 

“You’re cold,” Someoka mumbles and keeps staring blankly at his magazine. 

“You’re warm,” Fubuki replies and presses his face against Someoka’s broad shoulders. 

Fubuki’s hand snakes under Someoka’s shirt and Someoka hisses involuntarily when his thin, icy fingers graze his abdomen.

“You’ve been working out, Someoka-kun,” Fubuki is practically purring in Someoka’s ear and his fingers are skirting along the edges of Someoka’s waist “You’re abs are a lot harder than the last time I saw you.” 

Fubuki’s fingers press and Someoka starts to let out a sigh before he remembers himself and how he’s supposed to be peeved at Fubuki. He bites his lip and hunches his shoulders a little. 

Fubuki shuffles behind him and Someoka steals a glance over his shoulder to see Fubuki propped up on one elbow to peer at Someoka curiously. 

Their eyes meet and Someoka’s face goes crimson. 

“Why are you pouting?” Someoka hadn’t even noticed his curled lower lip and he immediately smooths it out into a scowl. 

“I’m not pouting.” 

“You’re pouting.” 

“Hrmph.” 

They stay like that for a while, Someoka hunched away from Fubuki and Fubuki hovering behind him. 

“You know.” Fubuki reaches over him to fish the magazines out of his grasp, “My favourite thing about you coming over, is how natural it feels to have you here. Other people, they act like you being here is some kind of treat or like, it’s unusual. But, to me, that makes it feel like you’re out of place. Like you don’t belong here.” He tosses the magazines to the floor. “So when you’re here, I like to act like it’s completely normal. My life can progress without making any drastic revisions in order to accommodate you.” He settles down behind Someoka again and rests his forehead on the back of Someoka’s neck. “Because there is always room for you here.” 

Someoka feels embarrassed now, not because Fubuki is naked and close but because he’s right. Someoka had been acting like a child when Fubuki had been trying to make him feel at home. 

“Um, say, I’m sorr--” Someoka begins to roll over and apologize but Fubuki covers his mouth with a soft kiss. 

“Hush.” He smiles and Someoka smiles back.   
\---

Fubuki always falls asleep after lovemaking and it baffles Someoka that he can sleep with all that sticky come and lube everywhere. But when Someoka comes back from the bathroom after cleaning up, he brings a wet washcloth with him. 

Fubuki moans as Someoka wipes down his stomach and thighs before kissing Fubuki lightly on the mouth and crawling back into bed. This part, the sex-warm closeness and holding Fubuki’s sleepily groping hand, come naturally to Someoka. He presses his face into Fubuki’s hair and inhales. Sweat and cinnamon. 

Someoka wants to be the center of Fubuki’s world. He wants Fubuki to drop everything and come running into Someoka’s arms. But Fubuki isn’t like that, and Someoka knows that. Fubuki likes coaching, he likes playing sports, he likes spending quiet time with his grandmother. While Someoka is away, Fubuki misses him and Someoka knows that too. But just because Someoka isn’t there doesn’t mean Fubuki’s world stops turning. 

Someoka wants to be the center of Fubuki’s world but he knows that isn’t possible and that’s okay. Fubuki isn’t the center of Someoka’s world either. He’s got soccer and his other team and Nishiki all these other things that Fubuki doesn’t touch. And that’s okay. That’s the way it should be. 

Fubuki groans in his sleep and Someoka nuzzles him. 

When Someoka wakes up in the morning, they’re sleeping on opposite edges of the bed again, but their hands are reaching across the mattress, fingers laced together.


End file.
